She Will Be Mine
by wannabetomstalker
Summary: Hermione just barely escapes becoming the latest victim of a serial killer that Draco is desperate to catch. Can he keep his key witness alive? Or, more importantly, can they keep from killing each other? Rated for Dark themes and sexual content. 18  only


This story was written from my iphone and beta'd by Alexisrose. It's dark! And pretty dirty, so please heed the warnings and don't read this if you are under 18.

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the characters and everything else from the HP world, and I don't make any money from writing this story.

Summary: Hermione barely escapes becoming the latest victim of a serial killer that Draco is desperate to catch. Can he keep his key witness alive, or more importantly, can they keep from killing each other?

Cold and alone, that was how she felt despite the hustle and bustle of the busy hospital waiting room. She was shivering. The cheery colorful baubles overhead mocked her, and the blonde man beside her made her question if she was dreaming. If only she was dreaming… She would do anything to wake up from this nightmare.

She shivered again and, with an exasperated sigh, the youngest Malfoy waved his wand to conjure a blanket that he practically threw at her, covering her head and face in the process.

She didn't attempt to right the blanket; she somehow felt safer under its soft, cotton, intertwined fibers. They provided shelter from the other occupants of the crowded room's prying eyes, and from him…

As though he sensed that her thoughts were on him, he let out a low growl of frustration, and she suddenly felt the blanket lifted off of her, her hair clinging to it with static electricity. He wrapped it snugly around her shoulders, scowling the entire time as though it cost him a great effort.

Again the feeling that this couldn't be real washed over her. The night's events seemed like a distant memory, foggy along the edges and sweeping across her closed eyelids with such velocity it was hard to keep up.

_Light._

_Flash of light. Blue._

_Then dark. Black. Blackness all around._

_And then it was cold. Everywhere. She was naked._

_Her arms and legs were stretched apart. Confined. _

_The man… Too dark to see his face…_

_But the smell… Stale milk and… and… daisies?_

_No… roses. _

_She was on a bed of roses. _

_The man had a mask on. The mask was smiling at her._

_Her pulse raced, thudding against her temple._

_He had his wand. The tip was glowing._

_It scared her. _

_He moved closer. _

_She could see brown eyes hiding underneath the mask. The eyes looked empty. It was hard to believe that the masked creature was human._

_The tip of the wand was against the delicate skin of her cheek._

_And she screamed._

_Hot. Burning. Pain. _

_Then nothing. _

_She looked at the ceiling, her eyes afraid of landing once again on the smiling mask that sent chills down her spine. There was a mirror. She could see a single drop of crimson blood slide down her cheek and disappear into the mass of rose petals underneath her. On her skin remained only the smallest of cuts. Just enough to draw blood… How had such a tiny prick felt like hundreds of needles slicing through her skin at once?_

_The wand touched her lip. She instantly tasted copper. _

_The peaks of her nipples. _

_Red with perfectly round droplets._

_She didn't scream; she didn't want to give him the pleasure of knowing how much he was hurting her. Instead she silently ground her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, but the pain was there, and it was real. Like the hundreds of needles were covered in acid, branding her. She knew he must have been using a curse from the darkest of Dark Magic books. _

_Lower._

_A line of blood from her navel to her pubic bone, and he didn't remove the wand. It stayed still… contemplating its next move, like a painter examining a blank canvas. _

_She opened her eyes to watch in the mirror, as the wand moved, leaving a searing, agonizing pain in its wake._

_M_

_I_

_N_

_E_

_Mine…_

_And then she screamed again. Not because of the pain, but because now she knew._

_Now she knew that she was going to die_.

She choked down a sob as a tear escaped her eye, silently flowing down her cheek, stinging as it traced the small cut that had kicked off the… festivities.

She could feel him looking at her again, so she turned to face him, dabbing her eyes with the blanket in the process. He looked scared. She knew she must look a fright, but the way he was eyeing her was as if there was pus blossoming from her eyes, instead of salt and water.

Hermione couldn't help but crack half of a slight smile, making Malfoy even more uncomfortable.

He quickly looked away and stood up. "100 galleons to the first Healer to give us some bloody service!" he shouted at no one in particular. Though every occupant of the room turned towards him for a fraction of a second, it was short lived. They all continued about their business, ignoring the blonde wizard's outburst. He quickly sat back down, his usual scowl plastered to his pointed face.

"Do you know how much Healers make? You'd have to do better than 100 galleons to get their attention," Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

"Yes, well do you know how much magical investigators make?" Draco shot back angrily.

Hermione kept her mouth shut. It was hard to think of Malfoy as anything other than the arrogant, spoiled rich prat from their school days, and though he was obviously still arrogant as ever, and a horror to be in the same space with, he had lost the Malfoy fortune. Everyone knew that the Malfoy's had had to use every last sickle to keep themselves out of jail, and any knuts left over were spent on the many Healers and potions Narcissa required when her health went downhill. Draco had taken a job in the Magical Law Enforcement Agency after failing Auror training, but he had quickly made his way through the ranks and now was one of the lead investigators. Hermione sometimes saw Draco at work, but the only time they'd ever exchanged words was when she had expressed her condolences for his mother passing away. He had only nodded at her, but now here he was, sitting beside her after one of the most terrifying experiences of her life.

It was all so surreal. Of course, she knew he wasn't there for her. He was the lead investigator for the wizard the _Prophet_ had dubbed the "Carver", and she had almost been the latest victim…

Just then, a Healer passed by, and Malfoy practically threw himself in front of her.

"Excuse me, but we have been waiting for over two hours. This is a disgrace! Do you know who she is? What she had to endure tonight? And now you won't even heal her wounds so she can begin to move on from this? Not to mention the fact that you are holding up a very important magical investigation! Any evidence of the attack that could be collected is getting compromised the longer you people sit here doing nothing!" Draco shouted, effectively getting the attention of everyone in the room.

The Healer's cheeks were red with embarrassment, but, glancing over at Hermione's scraped hands and the miniscule cut on her face, she said, "I'm sorry, but the most critical patients need to be attended to first. Miss Granger's bleeding seems to be controlled. It looks to me she would do just as well in her bed with a dreamless sleep potion as she would here."

Draco growled low in his throat and his eyes narrowed, and when he spoke, it came out as a barely controlled hiss. "Those cuts come from ancient Dark Magic, and can only be healed with phoenix tears and the _Guarigione Bacio_ spell, which only a seriously powerful witch or wizard can cast."

"Then maybe, as someone with such knowledge of the spell, you should do it yourself." The Healer stepped around Malfoy at last and looked down at Hermione. "I am truly sorry for what happened to you," she said kindly but formally, before fleeing quickly from the room and to the receptionists' station, where she was handed a large pile of clipboards.

"Where's the chosen arse when you need him?" Draco grumbled, sitting back down.

"He said he'd be back after he made sure there was no way to follow my Apparition trail, but maybe they did it. Maybe they caught him," Hermione said softly.

"Or maybe the Carver caught the Aurors? That bunch of bumbling idiots couldn't catch a quaffle if it flew into their hands. Everything we know about the Carver is what I discovered, and they have no problem taking all the credit. Arseholes," Draco added as an afterthought.

"Jealous?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I am not jealous! I am merely expressing my frustrations that the only reason they have even come close to catching that sadistic killer is because the evidence I have provided, and hell will freeze over before they so much as—nevermind. We're leaving, come on." He stood up and gently grabbed her arm, careful to avoid the thin red lines where the curse had touched her skin, but she pulled away from him.

"No, I don't care how long I have to wait. I want these marks off of me." Looking down at her hands, the words "Mine" stared back at her, glaring red against her pale skin. Hermione almost choked on her words as she fought down another sob. Draco looked uncomfortable again.

"I'll heal you. And I need to get all the evidence I can off of you before it's too late, so this doesn't happen to anyone else. You're the only one lucky enough to escape. You're the only one he didn't have a chance to clean up. Don't you understand how important that makes you to this case?"

Hermione nodded her understanding. From what she had read about the Carver in the papers, she had been very lucky indeed. His victims were raped and mutilated beyond recognition. The more fortunate ones had passed out from the pain early on, the others died a slow and excruciating death as the blood seeped from their bodies and their organs shut down. She wouldn't wish that on her worst enemy.

"But… the spell… you said it took a powerful wizard," she said softly.

"I've done it before, to the victims, so their families would recognize them at their funerals. And it can't be much harder, even though you are… well… alive," he shrugged.

She nodded again slowly, and allowed him to lead her towards the Apparition point. When they reached it he gripped her hand tightly and she cried out.

"I'm sorry!" Malfoy said quickly, dropping her hand.

"I'm—I'm fine," she replied, though the tears that had sprung up said otherwise. Did Malfoy just apologize to her? "Really…" She sniffed and wiped her eyes on the blanket again, while he found the part of her arm that remained unscathed and took hold. He turned on the spot, and a second later they Disapparated with a loud, resonating crack.

Thanks for reading, please review! More to come :)


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